Untold Stories of a Galaxy - Kysaek: The Beginning

A few days after the crew of the Nebula had reassembled in full, a serious meeting of the inner circle was underway. “No, no!” Thais shook her head vehemently. “That’s going too far!”

“We have to consider every option,” Kysaek replied much more calmly, even though she could understand the rejection and wasn’t entirely sure herself whether this was the right way to go. “And we don’t have many that promise us success.”

“There’s too much that could go wrong,” Galaen pointed out as she slowly walked round the circle. Like the rest of Kysaek’s close allies, the Palanian was in the makeshift command centre, or rather a circle of crates and chairs surrounded by containers, set up around an active holoprojector with the details of the assault on the PGI compound. “And I think the crew might take that the wrong way, especially after Inkanthatana Four.”

“Like I said, I’m open to better alternatives,” Kysaek sighed in her seat, half sitting and half lying on a pile of crates. It must have been the third or fourth time she’d uttered that sentence, but no real suggestions had been forthcoming. Just the insistence on refusing to take what seemed to be the only path that remained. “Nobody? No one? Then I guess we don’t have a choice.”

“As much as I’m eager to fight, I’m not going to do that,” Vorrn made clear. Even the Hishek disliked kidnapping, or rather this kidnapping. “I don’t care much for hatchlings or their families, but this is far beneath my dignity.”

“Not just dignity,” Tavis murmured between his folded claws, staring at a container wall. “This is beneath everything. It’s wrong, in a galaxy where there are more orphans than ever before, I don’t want to jeopardise an intact family as well. There will be other opportunities.”

“Maybe,” Kysaek nodded and looked wearily at the hall ceiling. “The only question is when. Time is not our friend. Every day that passes can change everything to our disadvantage and even if a new opportunity arises quite soon - how are we going to do it? Hope that the new PGI partner has dirty business going on and blackmail him with it? That could work, but it could also be the end of us.” No, Kysaek didn’t like that any more than the others. Maybe it was just that no one wanted to make that decision. Perhaps she had to be the one to order such a dastardly deed in order to realise what she had in mind: The maglev was the entry ticket for the main group, and some of Stemford’s vanguard was in line with Phonor’s statements, including the recommendation to enter the well-guarded compound via the maglev. However, as Stemford’s unit was limited in its reconnaissance, the other half of the plan was based on Phonor’s details and a key one was the main tower of the three PGI towers. Not only was the coveted PGI data centre high up there, but the 150th floor also housed the main security checkpoint - it was the key to victory. By capturing it, the Nebula crew would have a large part of the site defences under control and could more easily penetrate any barriers. Taking this place was easier said than done, however, and it was at this last point that the discussion was stuck, which frustrated Kysaek. “We’ve done a lot to get where we want to go, and this is suddenly the border?”

“Do you remember Sector 7?” asked Tavis, giving the answer himself in an attacking tone. “You threw that Vincent guy off the roof because he was kidnapping kids in droves and now you want to do the same?”

“Please, now you see the differences!” replied Kysaek, standing up at attention. The plan was to kidnap the child of one of Skarg Peeks’ business partners and there were several potential opportunities to do so. With this leverage in hand, the partner would be easy to control if he was about to leave for an important appointment in the PGI main tower, and bigwigs always ended up on the upper platform, from which main security was only a stone’s throw away. The path with the least risk and quickest access, as Kysaek found. “We don’t want to hurt the child. We won’t mistreat or kill him, and when this is all over, we’ll release the boy.”

Tavis crossed his arms in front of his chest. “No matter how careful we are, he’ll be scarred for life. I don’t want anything to do with it.”

“Neither do I, believe me,” Kysaek asserted conciliatory. “But what else are we supposed to do? Please tell me?”

“A break,” Galaen suggested as the voice of reason. “Perhaps we should take an hour’s break, regain our strength and calm down. That could give us new perspectives.”

Break? That was a word everyone clearly loved to hear and Kysaek nodded. “I think that would be best. Eat and drink, sleep or whatever pleases everyone. I’ll see you in an hour,” she said, rubbing both hands over her face as she walked away. But she didn’t feel like eating or sleeping. She just wanted to rest and scaled a wall in the landing bay where she could look out into the rainy afternoon. She couldn’t see more than the lapping water because of the bay’s low position, but that was enough for her. She sat down in an alcove and let her leg dangle into the abyss while Kysaek lit a cigarette and gloomily watched the rain fall. What had she and the others not already done - especially recently. A child, a child had never been knowingly involved, however, and Kysaek really struggled with herself. Was it a small but necessary sacrifice, for a greater cause? Should she risk a pure and innocent life for the chance to bring justice to thousands of innocents and to prevent future acts by PGI, which would save even more lives? Or should she slap herself for even thinking of doing such a thing? So far she had never offended innocents, regardless of age. She had helped secure Anuket, evacuated the few survivors of Trayden and made life better in the lower levels, at least in a small circle. Should she betray these principles now, for possible victory? And how would the crew react? The decision was definitely not an easy one and gave her a headache, which is why she massaged her temples and felt like crying a little.

“Do you mind if I find a place here too?” Tavi’s friendly voice came from the side.

No, now was not the time for tears. “I don’t know,” Kysaek replied, hastily rubbing her forehead to cover up the rubbing over her eyes. “Do you have a patent solution ready? I really need one right now.”

“No, unfortunately not,” Tavis shook his head and sat further down on the edge so that he had to look up at her. “And I didn’t actually come here to convince you.”

“Then why are you here?”

“That’s how it works in a business partnership, I think. I have to make sure that I can continue to rely on you.”

“Sounds more like personal,” Kysaek murmured doubtfully. “Which would be breaking your rules.”

Tavis scratched the ridges on his head. “By no means,” he said clearly. “If you can’t rely on your partners, it only puts you in danger. Business doesn’t mean leaving the other person out in the cold. However, I must confess that I would rather be in captivity again right now, if you know what I mean.”

“Better to be somewhere else, yes. It’s a familiar feeling. But there are better places than back at the network in handcuffs. Where would you prefer to be? I mean, not that there’s a luxury house waiting for you somewhere, is there? And yes, you don’t really talk about things like that, business and personal matters.”

Tavis didn’t answer at first, but his eyes revealed how he was thinking about the question. At the same time, the subject made him wistful and he also dared to glance at the rain shower. “You saved my life,” he said sincerely. “I think you’ve earned it, or no, no. I’d like to tell you about it.”

“And I’d like to hear about it.”

“There’s an orphanage and similar projects. Where that is, I have to keep to myself for all our sakes, but that’s where I would prefer to be right now, or at least I would like to be more involved in it again. However, I often don’t have time, even without the whole PGI thing. Until then, I can only provide financial support.”

“An orphanage?” Kysaek asked, puzzled. She had only ever thought about the Palanian in a trivial way, but that was the last thing she would have thought about him. “Why? Not that that’s a bad thing, but how come?”

“The Solaris War,” Tavis replied, as if it were the most normal thing in the galaxy, and it was, somehow. You could really feel how it carried him away in his thoughts. “I am a child of war.”

“You lived through it? Then you must be at least forty-four years old.”

“No, I didn’t live through it. I was born into its aftermath a few years later and I’m thirty years old. I was about four years old then and my memories are only fragments, but my mother was a supply officer in the Palanian Junta, I think. I can’t remember my father at all. Maybe there wasn’t one and he ran away or was killed. Who knows.”

“How does that fit in with an orphanage?” Kysaek asked cautiously. “Is your mother still alive?”

“No, and I don’t even know what happened to her,” Tavis recalled uncertainly and sadly. “At some point, one of the officers came to me and just said my mother was dead. After that they abandoned me, Palanian customs. My mother was no longer of any use and so I lost my place in the Junta’s care.”

“That’s absolutely merciless,” said Kysaek, stunned. Was this real Palanian culture? Those who had no use had no value? “Is the Junta really that ruthless?”

“In extreme times, yes, as far as I can tell and have learnt. Normally, every child is a potential soldier in the service of the people, a valuable resource. But when everything else is in short supply, the calculations are merciless.”

“Unbelievable. And what happened to you then?”

“I don’t think I understood the situation at the time,” Tavis recalled. It wasn’t easy for him, but on the other hand there was a sense of relief. “Later, I was told that there was a shaft at a spaceport where I had stayed and starved, and if Mother Isabel hadn’t found me there, I would certainly have died.”

“Mother Isabel? I thought your mother was dead?”

“She was dead. Isabel is human and we all, the children of her orphanage, call her that. She found me in that shaft when she was looking for supporters for her home,” Tavis said, hinting at the irony. “Looking back, it was lucky for me, but there was nothing there for her. The Junta doesn´t care that much about outsiders, even in good times.”

“I think Isabel would have failed anywhere else back then. The war was years ago, but it cost a lot.”

“That’s unfortunately true,” Tavis admitted. The fact that he didn’t agree to the kidnapping now made perfect sense, but the fitting topic was also quite a coincidence. Hopefully he wasn’t just bringing up this story to sway Kysaek’s opinion as he continued. “It’s a wonder how Mother Isabel managed it back then. So many children, so many hungry mouths and dangers, and hardly any help.”

“That’s quite a feat,” Kysaek nodded. She was impressed, because it was about far more than a roof over their heads and food. “Especially when I see you like this. Mother Isabel raised a decent man, even if he gwalks on the other side of the law.”

“The same goes for your parents. You do have some, don’t you?”

“Yes, I had my own luck in that respect,” Kysaek smiled, but there it was again, the sad thought of a fact that she didn’t let herself realise too much. “However, my father has been dead for several years.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. I’m sure you miss him a lot.”

“I do, but I’ve long since accepted it. You’d better go on about the orphanage.”

“What can I say,” Tavis murmured thoughtfully. There was probably a lot to tell, so he couldn’t decide on anything or simply didn’t want to get too specific. “There are so many stories from there that would be worth mentioning and would require a lot more time. But what I can say straight away is that the orphanage saved me and that’s why I do everything I can to support it and give other children the same opportunity. That’s why most of my earnings end up there and the rest goes to similar projects.”

Kysaek couldn’t help but wipe away a tear with her finger. “That’s probably the nicest thing I’ve heard in a long, long time.”

“Oh,” Tavis murmured uncertainly, as if he didn’t know how to react to the tear. Palanians couldn’t cry. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“It’s all right, it’s all right,” Kysaek quickly reassured him. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“You didn’t? When people, well, leak, isn’t that a sign of pain?” asked the Palanian, suddenly earning a laugh from his counterpart. “Now I don’t understand anything.”

“Ha ha ha, don’t worry about the crying. We humans can also shed tears of joy,” Kysaek smiled warmly and flicked her cigarette stub into the abyss. “How does your species physically show joy?”

“We open up,” Tavis emphasised, standing up to show his arms and hands. “You have to be Palanian or need good eyes to notice that. When we feel tremendous joy or sadness, small cracks form in our exoskeleton and you can see the soft muscle tissue underneath. For example, my people say that we feel good and let our guard down.” There was nothing of the sort to be seen in his eyes at the moment, however.

Perhaps Kysaek’s eyes were just too bad. “You don’t seem to be feeling well right now?”

“I’m fine, but this reaction requires a lot more. You could call it a little rush that it takes and I have to admit - it depends on the Palanian, the colour of its carapace and the flesh underneath. With some you see it better and with others worse.”

Kysaek sighed, but not because of Tavis. “I’d like to see more of it again, of joy and life itself,” she said when she realised. How could she risk taking that away from a child? Her path was already soaked in so much blood and who knew if what lay ahead would be the final battle. She hoped so, but it wasn’t going her way. “Am I repulsive for contemplating kidnapping the child?”

“Desperate, I’d say,” Tavis replied sympathetically. “Desperation makes many good people do bad things. But you haven’t done anything yet and you don’t want to.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Even I considered it briefly. The goal is right in front of us, within reach, and there’s this one thing that’s necessary for it. Whose thoughts don’t drift into uncomfortable realms?”

“Uncomfortable it remains, even where we don’t,” Kysaek said, stepping to the edge of the section. It was a good thirty metres down, but that wasn’t the only abyss in front of her. “Like you said, we’re so close. We may not become monsters, but we can’t let the chance pass just as easily to get rid of the monsters. Too many have suffered and paid for that. I, at least, remain convinced that we must utilise this business partner.”

Tavis ran his claws over his bony ridges, perplexed. “Maybe we just need to look harder. There must be something we can use against him.”

“Not just against him,” a quiet, insistent male voice joined in from behind. “Against everyone.”

Kysaek looked back at Wolfgang’s face. “Doctor - what do you mean by that?”

“What I mean is that I urgently need to talk to you,” the scientist replied, giving Tavis a subtly piercing look. “In private, please.”

“Of course,” said the Palanian blithely, but before he left, he looked again at the woman next to him. “I’ll see you at the meeting.”

While Kysaek nodded silently and looked after Tavis, Wolfgang took his previous place. “You’d have something longer from a photo.”

“If you say so,” Kysaek simply replied. She didn’t need any teasing right now, but the scientist seemed more composed again. “Let’s talk about the urgent instead. Are you feeling a little better?”

“Not a bit, but I’ve put my pain into complaining and work,” Wolfgang said with restrained gloom. Without the work, he didn’t know where to put his fingers, as he was constantly rubbing them together. Perhaps there was just too much pressure that Wolfgang needed to let out. Instead, however, he came across as introverted, which was a little scary. “I was just one step away from ending it all.”

“End it? Do you mean PGI?” Kysaek listened anxiously and stepped off the edge. “Or what are you talking about?”

“PGI, the boy, I saw it in everyone’s eyes. Even in yours. No one was able to do what should have been done,” Wolfgang said, turning to face the rest of the hall. A lot was spread out in it, but there was some overview of the area. “And I’ve been thinking a lot the last few days: What if this was part of God’s plan? What if the colony had to burn so that my anger would be fully kindled and I would see that this is all part of something bigger?”

Kysaek tensed slightly. The man’s words worried her more and more. Grief coupled with religious beliefs was something she remembered from her history lessons at school, and it almost always ended worse. She could only hope that her feelings were wrong. “The colony burned because PGI knows no mercy, but we’d seen enough before. Our anger is great enough, just as yours should be. Some god has nothing to do with it.”

“Not big enough,” the scientist shook his head. He was impossible to judge right now. “You know, I wanted to do it. After the meeting was interrupted, I went out and wanted to do it. I wanted, no, I had to be the one to kidnap the boy. None of you had the strength to do it and I realised that you and the rest would never have agreed to it, but I was ready for the sacrifice. I didn’t care about being rejected or killed at first.”

“You didn’t...?”

Wolfgang sighed in disappointment and turned round again. Suddenly he was back, the man with the sharp tongue. “I wanted to, I wanted to,” he mumbled to himself. “I was about to steal a hover wheel and realised I was about to repeat my mistake.”

“What, going it alone? We’ve been there before.”

“We have,” Wolfgang said, clutching his chest where his heart was. “I’m a proud man, too proud. I know about this mortal sin and I have probably killed the colonists with it. But there is nothing I can do about it now and I can only hope for forgiveness if I help to destroy the greater evil and that is why I am standing here before you now.”

“Phew,” Kysaek breathed out in relief and relaxed again. The scientist had been fighting an internal battle, even more so than her, but she realised that he had won it too. “You scared the hell out of me just now, but I’m glad you heeded my words and didn’t go it alone again.”

“Not all credit to you: but if we hope for what we do not see, we wait in patience. The Bible gave me comfort and I believe its writings. In the end, it has never disappointed me and I want to wait in patience for what is just. Until it comes, I also want to believe in us, in you, and make a suggestion as to how we can convince the businessman without harming his son.”

“How do you want to convince him? With foreign currency?” Kysaek surmised. The businessman had no dark secrets that could be used to blackmail him and without his son as leverage, she didn’t see how else he could be won over.

“You want to bribe a manager worth millions to go against PGI?” Wolfgang raised an eyebrow. “You don’t give honey to a bee. You threaten its entire swarm.”

“What exactly are we supposed to threaten him with? And we’re back to threats?”

“I see it more as a repetitive spectacle in our best-known role, or rather yours,” Wolfgang said theatrically and climbed down from the wall section. He beckoned the woman with him. “Come on, let me show you what I’m talking about.”

“Repetete,” Kysaek tried and followed the man. “I can’t even pronounce the word properly. You’re doing that on purpose.”

“No, skilful is skilful,” Wolfgang grinned back. There it was again, his pride. “I simply meant that we should once again slip into the role of the evil terrorists. I mean, it makes sense, don’t you think? Kysaek has failed twice with her conspiratorial attacks on PGI. Third time´s a charm, or we threaten to detonate a nuclear bomb.”

Kysaek’s eyes widened. “We detonate what?” she asked to make sure she hadn’t misheard. But she hadn’t, because the scientist led her into his corner, where he pulled the blanket off a table. “This is?”

“I know,” nodded Wolfgang. In front of him was a machine surrounded by four capsules, networked with wires and open cables, but the shells were empty. “Only half finished.”

“When did you get the idea?” Kysaek enquired, as she could hardly believe that the man had just built a nuclear bomb in the last few hours.

The general public had long regarded the explosive devices as primitive weapons from the early space era and were at best a moderate threat against powerful shields or modern war machines, especially spaceships and buildings. The same applied to their radiation residues, which could easily be removed nowadays. Nevertheless, the epicentre of nuclear bombs was still devastating, depending on their explosive power, and it was not uncommon for competing mercenaries or criminal syndicates, among others, to prefer dropping nuclear bombs on the bases of remote planets rather than conquering or eliminating them with high casualties - it was easier and cheaper. At the beginning of its formation, for example, Neo Solaris had also increasingly used the old bombs, but this almost led to the decline of the radical group. Many members resisted the overly harsh and cowardly strategy, which sometimes killed more people than aliens. Branding them as alien sympathisers did not help. In addition, the governments began to deliberately circulate sabotaged materials, which Neo Solaris blew up under their own roofs.

“Right after Inkanthatana Four, after I was with Doctor Askar,” Wolfgang said. He continued tinkering with the explosive device, sealing the empty capsules. “I needed to distract myself, and besides, I wanted to throw this on Skarg’s head.”

“That’s what you mean by igniting anger?” Kysaek observed. She let the man do it, after all, building weapons was his speciality and it actually seemed to help him. “I didn’t think you meant that so literally, but I’m glad you came to me with it. Can we just add one thing to our conversation from last time?”

“About what?”

“Without authorisation - no weapons of mass destruction.”

“Please,” Wolfgang raised a hand doubtfully. “The fact that nuclear bombs are still categorised as such is ridiculous. You only get twenty years in prison for possession and thirty years for use, depending on casualties.”

“Without financial damage or loss of life,” Kysaek added. Some of the Alliance’s criminal law still stuck in her mind from her military training. “Anything over three thousand victims is punishable by death without parole. The exceptions are long-lived species. They rot in prison for hundreds of years before they’re executed.”

“Only if you get caught,” Wolfgang countered, but he wasn’t in the mood for bickering now. “But well, well, by God, I don’t make any more superbombs without permission and, as I said, this bomb doesn’t work. It could still help us.”

The man’s words came to Kysaek’s mind as he came up the bay. “Against everyone,” she repeated thoughtfully. “You want to threaten the city with this fake bomb?”

“Correct! What if we have a little chat with Mr Roku Adanex?” suggested Wolfgang, grabbing a data log from his work table, on which a copy of the data on the Eporan businessman was open. “He is clean in every respect and enjoys a respectable reputation. I think if we tell him we’re going to detonate a nuke in Auranis if he doesn’t co-operate, he’ll comply.”

“Bluffing,” Kysaek shook her head, but not because she disapproved. She smirked at it. Lies and deceit had gotten her into this situation and once again she was going to turn that weapon around. “If we do it right, it could work.”

“It will work. My ideas have finesse and I’ll bet all my doctor titles on it.”

“Your titles, eh? If we can’t convince Roku and blow the whistle or walk into a trap, no one will be able to collect on this bet.”

“Then I suggest you put on your particularly devilish, terrorist self this time,” said Wolfgang, laying it on thick himself. “It’s my idea, you put on your act and the others can do something useful too.”

Kysaek only had one thing to criticise about the list. “Let us call the endpart of the idea before the others something else.”

Wolfgang ran his hand over his beard and grinned. “Let’s just say it’s going to be everyone’s day.”

“All of our day is more like it,” nodded Kysaek with motivation. Let’s all get together, we still have a lot of work to do.”